Who Are You?
by DelicateFuckingFlower
Summary: "Who are you?" Three words. Three words that would change everything. Three worlds that would make me see the world differently. Three words that would make me question everything I've ever been told. If only I had known that when I said them. One-shot!


**Who Are You?**

 **Hey Humans! Guess who's back! I'm currently working on Wild Jace don't fret but i just wrote this weird little thing out.**

"Who are you?"

Three words.

Three words that would change everything.

Three worlds that would make me see the world differently.

Three words that would make me question everything I've ever been told.

If only I had known that when I said them.

I don't know what I would do if I was given a do-over, knowing what I know now. Would I have walked down the stairs? Or would I have just kept walking straight? What would I be doing right now if I had of taken option number two? It wasn't too hard to imagine, I would be eating my apple wondering if there was anything more to life than this place. And know I knew there was. I just didn't know if more was good or not.

His name was Jonathon. That much I knew. He had white hair and green eyes, he was familiar in the way a stranger shouldn't be. I felt like I should know him. That I shouldn't have to ask him questions like what his name was and what he was doing here. But I didn't know why he was here, and I didn't know him.

The first time I saw him I was doing what I do every single day of my life, I was walking down towards the kitchen to sneak a mid-afternoon snack, that day I had chosen a nice shiny red apple, one that would be used for the table fruit bowl that no one was allowed to eat out of. But I was going to eat it. It was the biggest act of rebellion I would ever be able to attempt.

I heard a something fall to the ground with a soft crash, which wasn't unusual in this house considering my father was always work on something down on the lower floor, but this time the sound came from behind the hallway wall. I would have ignored it had I not heard it a second time. I was too curious for my own good and I quickly found myself straining my ears and searching the walls, for what I didn't even know, but I still searched. It was only my clumsiness that allowed me to not deem myself insane. I knocked a statue in what must have been just the right way as I attempted to catch my perfect apple I was fumbling with and seconds later I was greeted with a hidden door sliding open and a very creepy looking staircase.

I hesitated for all of 9 seconds before I started down the stairs. I couldn't help it. In 14 years I had never once been outside the walls of my family's manner. And 14 years allowed for a lot of exploring. I knew every secret passageway through the house, I knew the staff's routines perfectly, I knew what every little twitch of my parents bodies meant, but I hadn't known about this. Until now.

I probably should have been scared. A normal 14 year old would have been. But I wasn't a normal 14 year old. I was a pampered prisoner who was given everything I had ever wanted. Well almost everything, twenty minutes ago the one thing I wanted most in the world, but was repeatedly denied was to be able to feel the grass beneath my toes.

But now? Now the thing I wanted most was to know about this boy. Who was he? Was he like me? Why was he here? How long had he been here? Did he know what grass felt like?

He wasn't hard to find. The stairs ended at a door and the door opened to a large room, I could have been an exact replica of mine except instead of the girly touches mine held, his were manly. And he was in the middle, sprawled over a lounge in a way that only a boy could lay. Reading a book I had already memorised and was sure he had too, based on the way he was flicking through it and the multiple creases in the spine.

My hair was bright red and it hung like a tangled mane down my back, basically it was my very own giant neon sign that would announce my arrival in a room the second I set foot through the door, but I was also short which meant that when I wanted to be I could remain hidden until I wanted to be seen.

The two knocked over piles of books beside the lounge solved the mystery of what I had heard that lead me to this room and ultimately to this boy. I studied our surroundings, taking in the hundreds of books that were strewn across every available surface, and when they were full across the ground and stacked in haphazard piles everywhere. Other than that there wasn't much. There was a bed, a lounge, a half open door that lead to what looked like a bathroom and another that lead somewhere else. I could hear music playing softly from behind one of the stacks.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I made my presence known.

"Who are you?" it wasn't my voice that startled him, that much was obvious. He had started to laugh as he manipulated his huge frame to be able to stand, but it was when he finally looked at her that the typical reaction came. He jumped a foot in the air and lunged back towards the couch pulling out a small but defined knife. It was only once the properly took in my face and what I can assume my height that he deemed me non-threatening and lowered the knife.

"Who are you?" those were the first words he spoke, and they were an exact replica of mine. I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes and replied in the best way a fourteen year old could.

"I asked you first." He laughed, he actually laughed. A second ago he was holding a knife in defence and now he was laughing at the little girl in front of him. It was great.

"I'm Jonathon, your turn."

"Clary." I always wanted to be called Clary, I hated Clarissa

"Clary. And what are you doing in my room Little Miss Clary?" he seemed so normal as he took his seat back on his couch and stared back at me.

I knew him. I had to have known him. But I didn't. I didn't know anyone besides my parents and the staff. And yet here he was. A stranger in my home, one that had obviously been his home too, for a while according to the books.

"A better question would be what are you doing in my home?" I tried to sound tough but we both heard the quiver in my voice.

He just frowned, as if it was the weirdest question he could ever be asked. He decided to ignore my own and ask another of his. "How old are you?" it was completely off topic but I knew I would never learn anything about him unless he learnt the same about me.

"I'm fourteen, you?"

"You don't seem fourteen, well you look twelve but you act older, it's weird. I'm nineteen." Five years. Five years older than me. Did that mean he had been here five years longer than me too?

I couldn't hold back my questions any longer. "What are you doing here?" my question must have pulled him out of his own inner musings because he looked back up at me startled.

"I live here. What are you doing here?" of course he would ask me the same question.

"I live here. Well not here here, but up the stairs, on the other side of the wall. I heard you drop your books so I came to investigate." I didn't want to mention how I knew every corner of this house, except for this one of course.

"You live here?" He was in serious thinking mode and I didn't want to disturb him so I nodded. His eyes never left my face. "And your name is Clary?" another nod, "And you're fourteen?" another nod.

He finally cast his eyes downward. The room became silent, the only noise coming from what I assumed was a cd player in the back corner of the room. When he finally spoke again I barely heard it. "I had a sister called Clarissa, are you her?"

That was not what I had been expecting. But the second he said sister everything flashed before my eyes. His eyes – my…our mothers eyes, his hair matched my fathers, his name matched a journal I had found when I was eight. Was he my brother? Why would I not know I had a brother?

"My name is Clarissa. I think I am." Of course I was. How could I not be? But that only made me have more questions. Questions I was terrified to know the answer to.

He smiled, he actually smiled. It only lasted a second though, before his face fell once again. Suddenly I remembered a passage from the journal I had assumed was a story at the time

 _Jonathon is obsessed with her, the way a five year old is obsessed with a new toy. I tried to grab her to feed her and he screamed and attempted to flee with the child. It's like he was scared we would hurt her. I feel it's time to separate them. This will never work if they develop a deeper bond than what has already been made._

Only now upon thinking about it did I realise that the handwriting was the same elegant scribble of my fathers. Why would he separate us? From what I've read that's not normal. Siblings grow up together. Jonathon and I would have been best friends. I know it.

"Jonathon?" he met my gaze at the sound of his name. "Do you know what grass feels like?" He laughed. He actually laughed. It was a nice melodic sound, so different to the rough throaty laugh of our father.

"Of course!" he was so enthusiastic until he saw the disappointment and jealousy that settled upon my features. "Do you not?" he was so confused that I allowed some of my jealousy to disappear. But not all of it.

"No." So that meant he hadn't been in here his whole life. He had experienced the outside world. He had probably met strangers. He had been swimming and running and dancing. All the things I hadn't.

Another passage rushed to the forefront of my mind.

 _He's miserable without her. He cries all the time. It's been a month and he still won't talk to us. She settled down eventually but only because she was too young to understand. I need him to understand that it's for the best. She can't be allowed to befriend him. Her contact must be limited and he will fill her mind with outrageous ideas._

I didn't understand it. What was so special about me? What was I meant to do in this world? Out of the hundreds of books I had read, none of them had covered this. My parents had a plan for me. That much was obvious. They didn't share the same plan for my brother though. Why not?

"Jonathon, what are they going to do to me?" this time there was no hiding the fear in my voice. I was scared.

He heard it too. In a second he was up and before I knew it he had picked me up and pulled me into his arms before settling back onto the lounge once more. He was hugging me. This is what a hug feels like. I only knew what to call it because of my books. I finally understood what it meant to be warmed by another. I could feel his heart beating strong against my head as I curled up.

"I don't know, but this time I will protect you." I had only known him for ten minutes and yet I knew he was serious. He would protect me. I knew it. "You need to tell me everything Clary."

So I did. I told him how I saw our parents three times a day, breakfast, lunch and dinner. I told him how we would discuss what book I read that day, or what language I had mastered, or instrument or art technique. I told him what my house was like, that I had never been lower than the second level. That the staff didn't speak to me, but they watched me. that one night I snuck out of my room after bed time and tried to climb out a window, but the furthest I got was opening it before one of the silent staff members came and closed it back up, all without saying a word. And the next day the windows are all covered in screens that still allowed the breeze and sunlight in, but kept me in too. I told him how I learnt about love and other families through my books, I told him about my wish to feel grass, and finally, I told him about the journal I memorised.

 _It seems to be going well. It's progressing faster than I thought possible. I knew I was right, it was the world that ruined him. She can't be ruined. She's on her way to being perfect. She still shows emotions which is interesting since we show none to her, it must be her books. But we're convinced that without them it will all fail._

"We're getting out of here. Right now. Is there anything you need?" he wasn't serious was he? He was! I looked down at what I was wearing. A singlet, jeans and converse. That was what most of my book characters wore when they were going on an adventure, so that's what I wore every day. No matter what I would always be ready for my adventure.

But I wasn't wearing a jacket, and that was every characters downfall. Jonathon, I decided I would call him Jon, that's what siblings did right? Shorten each other's names? Jon went and grabbed us both jackets, of course it was huge on me, but it was warm and comfy. I watched him pace around the room filling two bags with what he deemed necessities. One was a small backpack that must have been for me, and the other was a huge duffel bag that I assumed he would carry considering it was as big as me.

I really wanted to go and get the journal, even though I had memorised it and read the updated parts every couple of months I wanted the actual book with me. But a quick glace back up the stairs proved that would probably be impossible since the wall was back in place.

"Clary, time to go. Let's do this." He placed my backpack on my back, it was heavy but not an inconvenience and took my hand as he lead us out the other door I had noticed when I entered, and down stairs.

It was currently 3:45pm which meant I still wouldn't see my parents for at least two more hours, but that was because they wouldn't be on the top two floors, I didn't know where they spent their days, or what they did, we only ever spoke about me.

Jon seemed to know what he was doing though, he stopped us at the perfect time for staff to rush past. He made us sprint down hallways before other doors opened.

Finally we were met with a huge oak door. It was magnificent. The windows either side told me we were on the ground floor and we were nearly outside.

It was just beyond that door, I had never been more nervous or more excited.

Jon opened the door and I took my first step outside. There was grass, and beyond that there were trees. I couldn't help it I knelt down, undid my shoes and ran onto the grass.

It's squishy?! And cold?! It didn't make any sense but it was perfect. Jon allowed me to have my moment before he came and reminded me that we had to go. The only reason I put my shoes back on was that he had promised me that there would be grass where we're going.

I hadn't realised how much noise I had made until we were making our way to the trees and I heard the frantic scream.

"CLARISSA?!" there was so much emotion coming from my mother's voice. It was the first time I had ever heard her express anything. It was another thing I had wished for over my life,

But instead of listening to her I listened to my brother.

"RUN."

 **So? Love it? Hate it? Kill it with fire?**

 **Let me know!**

 **I don't know where this came from but yah here it is! tell me if it's shit or not! Please! and if you think it is shit please tell me why!**

 **Later Humans! Mwah**


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